


The Wraith and Spectre

by Samuraisaucefrites



Category: Dragon Age (Comics), Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Blindness, Camping, Caves, Comic: Dragon Age: Blue Wraith, Disabilities, Dragon Age Lore, F/M, Freedom, Healing, Incaensor, Injury, Injury Recovery, Learning Patience, Lyrium, Magic, Magisterium (Dragon Age), Meet-Cute, Opposites Attract, POV Fenris (Dragon Age), Romance, Snark, Tevene (Dragon Age), Tevinter, Tevinter Culture and Customs, Travel, Trust, Will they or won’t they, fenris Hates all Mages, magistrate - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:21:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28029942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samuraisaucefrites/pseuds/Samuraisaucefrites
Summary: Taking place after the Blue Wraith Comics, Fenris continues to hunt and slavers and free captives.One mission goes catastrophically wrong and he is saved by an unexpected ally.6 chapters!
Relationships: Fenris (Dragon Age) & Other(s), Fenris (Dragon Age)/Other(s), Fenris/Female Hawke
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	1. Wraith

The last two weeks Fenris spent hunting a particularly notorious slaver, Luvicitius Carissus. Fenris regretted parting ways with his recent group of traveling companions, as Luvicitius’s forces were plenty.

From concealment he searched for the right moment to exploit. He considered making some sort of trap so he could ambush the caravan.

Running through the longer mop of hair on the top of his head, his hand reached the base of his neck he could feel the tickle of the millions of clipped short hair, like a rough velvet, of his undercut.

For a second, his mind drifted to her. She always ran her fingers through his hair when it was longer, chin length. Some touches were too cruel to forget, despite how he longed he could. Forever she was in his past tense, and his burden to remember.

Weary of waiting and scheming which led no where, Fenris decided it was finally time to attack.

Flames of Lyrium burned his flesh as his body went from a corporeal form to something beyond physical. The rage fired every nerve ending in his body. Time to fight.

Leaping from his concealed position, one slaver at a time, Fenris ripped through their chest cavities. Bones and muscle posed little resistance to his ghostlike state. The squish of wet muscle in his fist was a disgusting comfort. A reminder of the countless lives which were taken and subjugated. Lives like his own.

Shouts in the distance spooked one of the horses. The animal’s bray preceded the thunder of its hooves.

Twinkling of lights ahead of the caravan drew Fenris’s attention before his world went black and slipped into the enveloping nothing.

Darkness.

Dreamless.

Existence without consciousness.

Pain. Everything hurt. His eyes darted open revealing a blurry world and a dark haired woman, he was in the forest still. Unable to move, finding himself bound he struggled, which only amplified his suffering. His left leg felt wrong. Everything felt wrong.

“Hawke...” he whispered.

The figure approached him as only said, “rest.” Oblivion consumed Fenris once more.

He woke in the hazy fog of twilight consciousness a few times more. The last time, he felt himself being... dragged? Through the woods on some sort of gurney. He was bound, feeling like a swaddled infant. There were no voices, only a soft humming from the person—a woman.

“Stop.” Fenris coughed. More pain. What happened? He asked himself. He felt like a corpse, wrapped in a burial shroud. Being bound would have panicked him were he less delirious.

Nothingness returned.

The crackle of flames. Wood smoke. A soft glow of light to his left, camp fire. Again he attempted to uncross his arms or move his legs and found himself wrapped tight and in pain.

“Don’t move. Your bones need more time to set.” A soft voice spoke with a Tavene colored accent.

So this person wasn’t Hawke, he thought. A hollow of disappointment bloomed behind his breast bone. He grimaced remembering the last time he saw Marian. He should have known better.

“What happened? Am I your—“

“You, elf, are my patient. You’re lucky I too was watching the caravan,” the shadow of a figure by the fire replied.

“Not a fan of Tavene slavers?” He laughed, groaned, and winced as any movement was excruciating.

The figure approached him, lit by only the stars and the fire Fenris could finally see his... captor? He was unsure of who this person was. Patient? Was she a doctor of some sort?

She was human, small build, shoulder length black hair and a band of cloth wrapped around her eyes. Maybe the shadows played tricks on him. The rest of her was lost in shapeless robes.

“One of the horses was spooked and trampled you,” The figure explained. She held a leather bladder and brought it to his lips.

Fenris recoiled, frowned and reluctantly decided to take a drink. He recognized the flavor of Elfroot in the concoction. Earthen and sweet.

“I finished what you started, though not in the manner I normally wish to handle affairs. You forced my hand, someone might assume you had a death wish, Blue Wraith.”

“Trampled? Will I...” He didn’t like the sound of the gravity in her voice.

“After freeing the captives, they aided me and made this sled and offered me cloth to bind you. I set your bones, I invoked energies to help, the rest, I’m afraid, is up to you.”

She pulled the bladder away after he finished drinking. Then she placed a callused hand on his forehead, then placed on his face, it made Fenris uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry if you find this strange. It is how I can see your healing, on the inside.”

He frowned. “It is my luck I would find myself in the company of yet another mage.”

Shrugging, she rose to her feet and returned to the fire side.

“You are lucky I am versed in the healing arts. You would be immobile forever, otherwise. I’m no enemy of yours, Blue Wraith. You may call me Gemina, or Mina. Whatever is easiest for you.”

“You’re another witch! You are binding me!” Fenris gasped. After parting ways with Hawke before she left to help the Inquisition, he did his best to avoid the company of Mages. None could be trusted.

“This stress, this is only going to slow your healing. May I suggest letting old biases rest? And let the blind mage do her best to put you back together so you may continue your efforts?”

The cloth. Her hands. The way she touched his face... for information.

“You’re blind?” he asked.

“A lasting gift from my previous master. As I said, our interests are not so dissimilar. You have been seeking revenge for what Danarius did to you, your tattoos. All of us who once called Magesters our owners carry reasons to seek retribution, Wraith. But for now? You must sleep.”

He wanted to understand what was happening, but with a snap of her fingers he once again was lost to a dreamless slumber.


	2. Allies?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris is slowly healing from his injuries under the care of the blind mage, Mina.

Wraith and Spectre 2

With unstable hands, Fenris cradled the lukewarm bowl of soup.A tremble shuddered through his body making him cry out in pain, dumping the bowl’s contents onto the dirt beside him.

The thick canopy of the forest shaded the camp sight from the hot Tevinter sun. He guessed it was still Tevinter territory. The blind mage wasn’t present when he woke, but left him food and water at his side.

He wanted to stand, walk, but it seemed he was still unable to anything on his own. He had precious few conversations with his caretaker. She kept him in an unconscious state, by the feeling of the length of his hair, he guessed they had traveled a month.

Frowning, he thought about all of the indignities being unable to care for himself. This mage knew too much about him, more than Marian ever did. It was a strange and clinical form of intimacy. He was rarely conscious, and thankful. He never awoke in his own filth, always was clean and freshly bandaged.

Despite how much he wanted to protest this invasion of his privacy, he appreciated and required the care. He wondered if the abomination Hawke associated with ever showed this amount of attention to any who requires his services.

“You spilled your dinner, next time just tell the chef you despise their cooking.” Gemina’s voice startled Fenris. If he were able to more than be propped up to reclined position, he would have jumped.

“Fasta vas, witch! How do you manage to sneak up on me like this? Shouldn’t a blind woman be louder?” Fenris lamented. He felt a bit of shame from dumping his food. He didn’t understand how she managed to hunt or trap food without sight.

He let out a long and labored sigh feeling the of her palm pat the top of his head. The polarized combination of sincerity and sarcasm in the gesture emphasized how small he felt in the moment.

Studying her with suspicious eyes, he saw her drop the sack she carried. With little reaching around, she found the empty bowl beside Fenris and it from the dirt and brought him another serving of the soup.

“Do you want help, or do you wish to try again?” Gemina asked.

“I can feed myself.” He snapped, not wanting to be an invalid longer than necessary.

“That remains to be seen, Wraith,” she replied with a grin.

Fenris grunted and took the soup from her and brought the bowl up to his mouth sipping it. It was richer than he expected, a velvety texture despite being thin. He wanted something more solid, but felt reticent to ask.

“I will make some grilled rabbit once I check the traps, but carrying your fat butt for days on end to safe camps is a bit tiring, so I think I will have a sit for a moment.” She then plopped down in the grass and leaned against a tree with a satisfying sigh. From her sack she produced a small weathered tone and opened it.

After finishing his meal, he placed the bowl beside him. He didn’t understand how someone who wore so many beaded necklaces and bracelets managed to do everything with an unnerving silence. Even Isabela never achieved managed the level of quiet as this mage. Marian, on the other hand, was always loud. When she stood still and it was a cacophony.

“Witch—“

“I have a name, Wraith. Please use it.” She flipped the page of the book in her lap.

“I’ll use your name when you use mine.” He loosely folded his arms across his chest. Due to the nature of his injuries he wasn’t able to hold the pose long.

“You have yet to tell me your name, Wraith.” She turned the next page.

Fenris stuck out his bottom lip in a frown. He didn’t like the idea of becoming familiar with yet another mage. This one though, he owed her his life. Once again he was indebted to magic.

“You may call me Fenris.”

“Nice to meet you, Fenris,” she replied throwing away the phrase as she thumbed the corner of her book, it looked like she was counting the pages.

He studied her with wary focus. She had dainty and sharp features, warm golden-olive complexion, shoulder length black wavy hair, a repeating geometric tattoo around the base of her deltoids on each arm. Her greenish robes were tattered at the hem. The capelet draped over her shoulders was of the same material, as well as the cloth band which covered her eyes. He had yet to see her remove the cloth, and see what hid beneath. She said something once about a lasting gift from the Magisters. The hollow in his chest welled, this person was someone who also had seen the cruelty of magical power. He wondered if she was an incaensor, if he was in danger. He decided he was too wary to care.

So what in the Maker’s ever loving grace was she doing holding a book and flipping pages she couldn’t see? Surely something more sinister was afoot...

“If you’re blind, then tell me what you’re doing with that book?” He asked. He couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself.

Gemina closed the book with a slap, “Oh! I was... remembering. I had most of this memorized before I lost my sight. I try to remember what is on each page, picture it in my mind. Does it offend you?” She gave him a wry smile.

A silence elapsed while Fenris deliberated his next words. There was something unexpectedly tragic, to him, seeing someone who he very well could have been enslaved beside still making an effort to hold onto some sort of joy. He wondered if her master knew she was a mage. He assumed the book was probably something she stole for herself. All the little things those who are enslaved do to hold onto threads of their humanity.

“Mage...Mina, if you bring the book to me, I will read it to you.” Fenris couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. He didn’t enjoy reading out loud, having only gained literacy half a decade ago.

Before Fenris could form a reason to retract his offer, Mina dropped the heavy tome on his lap and sat down beside him. It occurred to him he was probably the first person who ever offered. There was something playful and youthful about how she rested her chin on her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs with eager attention. 

He opened the book to the first page and began to read, “Once upon a time there was a little fox who discovered an enchanted bead. The fox would carry the bead with her everywhere, but one day, the fox set it down beside a river so the fox could get herself some water—“

“Thank you, you have a very nice voice. This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me,” she blurted out. She buried her head behind her knees for a moment. He guessed she was hiding her expression, a common tactic of slaves. Sometimes the mask breaks, and such a show of emotion could mean torture.

“A big silvery fish,” Fenris continued. “Saw the bead, and since fish are magical creatures, he knew he must have it. So he leapt from the water and snatched the bead and began to swim away...”

Gemina scooted beside Fenris and placed her hand against his chest and he read. It wasn’t long before he could feel lightening bolts jolt through his limbs as feeling returned to his legs and back. He could feel his bones knit together as he continued to read. Somehow, she managed to keep heeling him as she dozed, as if she were channeling energies from the fade directly through him. His tattoos pulsed with burning and cooling sensations. Her healing Magic’s were not the same as what Hawke and Anders used.

“Once the fox finally found the fish, she exclaimed, ‘Oh! Now the Truth comes out. It’s about time!’ and the fish turned into a water dragon! A little fox could do nothing in the face of a water dragon and, because she was only a little fox. The fox realized though it had no magic and was very small, it could still outsmart the dragon.” He closed the book and said in a low voice, “And that’s the end of the first chapter.”

His caretaker was fast asleep, and the magic ceased it’s flow. He knew he could now stand if he wanted, but the feel on her palm on his chest wasn’t something he wanted to disturb. Friends. Allies. It had been a while since he remembered different forms of intimacy. He didn’t wish it was Marian, this was something different. He didn’t think about Marian at all.   


Looking down at the resting mage, she was much smaller than Marian, more like Merrill’s stature. A life without support and nutritious food, the too thin build of Tevinter slaves. Up close and now conscious, he noticed her arms were striated with old scars. He knew where they came from. 

Placing the book beside him, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and tilted his head to the side against hers and closed his eyes. For the first time he was thankful she saved his life, maybe he really did have a life worth saving. 


	3. Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now strong enough to walk without leaning on Gemina for support with every step, they are able to cover more ground. 
> 
> TW: discussion of torture and violence

Fenris never saw himself as someone who was feeble and needed help. Every step he took felt shaky and precious. 

He allowed the blind mage, Gemina to lead him, on the sled she used to transport him through thewoods while his back was still too broken to stand, she carried his armor and their supplies. She kept them on the move, reminding him no where was safe to remain for long. Slavers were everywhere. 

The claims rang empty, he hadn’t seen another person since he was in her care. He considered the lack of others on purpose, she didn’t appear to be a warrior, and it was only a few weeks since he could walk again. They were easy prey. 

Fenris didn’t like being prey. 

He sighed, wanting to keep his thoughts present but couldn’t help but feel washes of shame if any of his former companions saw him in this state. 

Fenris and Gemina never spoke while on the move, she would shush him if he asked questions. He guessed it was because she needed to focus on sound to know their location. He didn’t understand how she moved so freely, she navigates the woods with ease while determined to take them somewhere. At first, the travels felt aimless, but recently he sensed there was a specific destination in mind. 

The green canopy above allowed only thin beams of sun to penetrate. Illuminating single fern fronds here, a patch of red bark there, giving a strobing sensation as he walked. The bottoms of his feet still felt too soft from his month of bed rest and were becoming sore from the day’s march. 

“Mina,” Fenris called out to mage. “Can we rest or make camp?” This being the first time he asked to stop in the weeks of walking and rehabilitation. Gemina typically made them stop earlier in the day.

The mage stopped and moved her head up and around as if she was looking around. Watching her was always perplexing. She dropped the sled and with her staff in hand she approached him.

“I’m sorry, today is a long one, take this, for support this isn’t a good place for rest.” She handed him her simple wooden staff with a forked top, perfect for a sling for launching projectiles. He wondered if she ever tried using it as such. 

The corners of Fenris’s lips pulled down into a frown. “That’s your staff. Don’t you need it for... whatever it is you do, witch?”

“Now, now, I thought we were past the name calling calling, elf. It’s a good walking stick, and you need help. I’m sorry today is long, but it will be worth it, and we can spend some time at our next destination. When it will be time to leave, you will be back to yourself and never be plagued by my witchy presence again. How’s that for some motivation?” She grinned, patted him on the shoulder and reached up, ruffling his white hair. 

“Hmpf.” He didn’t like the liberties she took in making contact with him, yet she managed to never touch his tattoos. It was as if she purposely avoided them to refrain from causing him pain. The prospect of feeling like himself and no longer needing her assistance should have been a more thrilling boon, but he was less enthused than he anticipated. Unsure what to make of these feelings he said nothing and used the staff to aid his walking. She was right, it helped. 

There was a regularity in his life he appreciated. Half of the day was spent walking, at first she drug the sled behind her while he leaned on her for support. Eventually walking on his own. Then she would find a nice clearing and they would make camp. She would fetch water, and hunt or trap some game. She would make some sort of flat quick bread and they would eat. There was always a concoction of elfroot to drink, and sometimes other berries and fruits too. The end of the day was signaled by Fenris reading a chapter or section on the book she carried on her back and she would fall asleep against his shoulder with a palm on his chest, the only time she directly touched his tattoos. During her slumber she somehow summoned healing magic. It was a cooling sensation and each morning he would awake to her making some sort of porridge for breakfast and preparing to break camp. She never muttered incantations or spells. He never witnessed any magic which wasn’t restorative in nature. What Fenris valued the most, she never spoke on mage rights or the plight of the oppressed magic users. She didn’t speak much at all. He recognized her silence with his own.

After a few more hours of trekking she pointed to the left and they found a nice clearing with matted down underbrush some deer used forbedding the night before. A rush of water could be heard in the distance, they were closer to a stream than usual. 

Soon as camp was established, the mage disappeared without a word. Fenris occupied himself with the stretches she taught him and napping under a tree. Something about this part of the forest felt safe and tranquil. 

“Fenris, it’s time to eat.” Her soft voice brought him from his dreamless slumber. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and took the bowl she held, accidentally clasping his hands around hers for a moment. She slipped free, smiling and adjusted the sash around her eyes.

“You’ve never told the story about your eyes, is it such a horrible sight, what’s behind the cloth?” He asked waiting for the soup to cool.

“You’ve never told the story about your tattoos, but you don’t see me asking about it.” She flipped the hood of her tattered capelet over her head as she sat down.

Fenris surprised himself with a laugh. The moment was contagious and Gemina chuckled. The laughter grew until his sides hurt. Her response was absurdly accurate, and sometimes he felt like he was speaking to his twin with her snarky tone and snappy responses. 

“Fair enough, I, guess... I suppose this was me asking.” He slurped up some soup with greedy gulps. 

She looked down and away then back to him, “I don’t want to talk about it. We aren’t that intimate... and it’s something I promised I would never share... not with strangers. We all have our limits, don’t we?”

He tilted his head to the side, and sighed. “Are we strangers? I don’t usually read strangers to sleep. You see the cruelty of my master on my flesh—“

“I don’t see anything.” She corrected in a sharp tone.

“Right, but how do you know where to go? How to hunt? You never stumble or misstep, this is very strange for a blind woman you know when I have finished my meal, and you find the bowl without me saying. Is it magic?”

“It’s... Magic is involved. I’m an incaensor, I only know how to heal. I’m no threat to you or anyone, I have no fondness for demons or spirits. When you witness your mother become an abomination because that’s the only way she can be free, you learn the only true freedom is taken with the tip of a blade.”

He smiled, she wasn’t wrong. “I’m fortunate it was you who found me.”

“You are. Others were searching for you, subtly isn’t something you do well. They had malicious intent, I heard their talk. I had already bound you, begun your mending. Maybe more covert actions might suit you in the future.” He could see a smile beneath her shadowed hood. It was warm and though she joked, she wasn’t completely wrong.

“I might need to take some lessons from you, silent one.” He chuckled with his retort. His cheeks ached from smiling. 

The normal routine proceeded, Gemina cleaned up the camp and Fenris read another chapter to the blind mage, she used her limited magic to keep making progress on his healing. After the evening’s chapter they were both awake listening to the stream gurgling nearby.

Fenris felt a supreme sense of peace, something foreign and new. A symphony of chirping crickets, cicadas and frogs provided a din he lost this thoughts in. He felt thankful, this was better than any hospital he had seen. 

“When you sleep,” Gemina spoke softly, her hand on his chest sending a cooling sensation through him. “You sometimes cry out the name Marian, did she die?” 

He exhaled, a tightness pulled at his eyelids as a small pocket of emptiness grew behind his breastbone, beneath Gemina’s hand. “No, she is alive, somewhere.”

“Someone close to you?” She asked. Her head rested on his shoulder 

“Yes,” he replied unsure how to continue. He didn’t want to talk about it, but she earned enough of his trust to continue. “She was important to me. Will always be important to me, but it’s been years since our paths last crossed. People like her don’t have time for people like,” he hesitated, “you and me.”

Gemina said nothing, she only listened. 

“She needed to help this group the Inquisition, something about some Darkspawn we thought we slayed in the Vimmark Mountains ripping a hole in the sky. I saw the hole, I guess it’s sealed now, but Marian never came home. She went off to the Anderfels to work with the Wardens there. There’s no place for me amongst Wardens and she forbade me from joining her when she left.”

A heavy silence hung in the air. He remembered their last argument, they didn’t argue often, but this was the worst. 

“Kaffas,” she cursed, “the situation sounds difficult. Sometimes there’s no winners in life, just survivors. If we’re lucky, we get to continue on for a while. Sometimes people come and go and return. I hope your person returns, if that’s what you want.” The resignation in her tone made the sorrow in him grow. He remembered what it was like to feel the way she did. 

Fenris wrapped his arm around her and leaned his head against her, assuming the position they slept for the past weeks.

“I have more purpose than wishing and waiting for someone who hasn’t made me a priority. Should our paths cross again, we will have a conversation. Or three. It is a waste of a good night to think on which may or may not happen.” 

Not wanting to be stuck with the loneliness he carried, he pulled the mage an inch closer. He was being honest, it had been so long since Marian had been by his side, he knew were they to meet again, it would be complicated at best. He wanted to divulge all his feelings about everything, he knew Gemina would understand, in her way. 

For the first time she snuggled into Fenris, taking the prompt of his gesture. Feeling close to another person felt like healing in a manner which mended his soul. 

“I hid my magic from my master. He found me reading the book I have, and melted my eyes with a fire spell. I’m very ugly under the cloth I wear. For some reason, he couldn’t use blood magic to control me anymore. I liked to think maybe a kind spirit or my mother protected me. But maybe it was fear. He didn’t need to, I was subdued. I did what he asked when he instructed. It took me a few years, but eventually, I grew brave, and one day I had enough of his abuses. I took an ancient rune encrusted sword on the wall and I moved faster than he had ever seen. I plunged the blade so hard and deep into his body it was stuck in the stone behind him. I took his staff, and threw it into the fire. The rest of the slaves were so shocked by my actions they let me walk out with supplies and no one dared to follow. I heard the Magister’s son claimed the estate and life went on as normal, except the sword was unable to be removed from the walls. They had to cut his body away. I have since been offering my services as a healer to other like us. But you are the first company I’ve shared for any extended time... I guess we aren’t strangers anymore.” 

He squeezed her tight for a moment, a gesture of concern and showing his solidarity. He didn’t need to guess what drove her to murder her master. He lived it. He knew. Suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to protect the woman beside him, he shared what knowledge he had. 

“You used your magic to move that fast, an acquaintance calls it Fade Stepping. It’s not unlike when I become the Blue Wraith. As long as I am by your side, I promise to never let another magister harm you.” 

“Cheap words for a man who struggles to walk half a day.” 

They shared another laugh and drifted to sleep. Fenris held the sinewy mage tight, and didn’t cry out for past lover or revenge in his sleep. The comfort of companionship, a new balm of security erased his fears. 


	4. Refuge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gemina takes Fenris to her refuge from the world, he is restored to his full strength and learns about his friend.

“Where are you taking me?” Fenris asked, he was unsure of the hour, the dark of the forest indicated it was the middle of night. “You’re forgetting I can’t see where I’m going.”

Gemina grabbed his hand and placed a finger across his lips to shush him with a previously unseen urgency in her voice. “Speak softly and trust me. There’s an armed escort not far from us, and we can’t draw their attention.”

“More slavers? We should stop them!” He protested in a whispered volume. He longed to continue his quest of exacting revenge on Magister population.

“No! You aren’t ready.  Soon , but they have Mages with them, they’re looking for you, and me. It’s my master’s son, Luvicitius Carissus. He’s who I feared the most, and was crueler than my master. We must move to safety.” 

When the escaped slave blind mage woke Fenris, she already broke camp and hid their belongings inside a large tree and used her magic to position a bolder in front of the opening. All they had now were the clothes on their backs and her staff. No weapons, nothing. 

Fenris disliked the idea of leaving everything behind, but he was still in no condition toprotest further. With a sigh he decided it was in his best interest to trust her. She was right, he wasn’t ready to fight anyone and he supposed by now she earned his trust.

After an hour’s trek along the river, Gemina led him to a large rocky formation jutting from a cliff side, with a thundering waterfall erupting from its peak. The sliver of moons provided enough illumination for the elf to see the magnificent scene. To the left of the cliff was a small protected pool, trees lined both sides of the river like waiting ghosts. The forest swayed and moaned with the wind.

“You can swim? Right?” She shouted approaching the pool beside the river. 

He didn’t like where this was going, “Venhedis!”He cursed, “yes... but—“

“Good.” Gemina removed one of the long beaded wraps from her wrist and made a bite at one end and fastened it around Fenris’s wrist and made another loop at the other end, pulling her hand through. 

“Gemina—“ he pleaded, his face pinched in a scowl. He hadn’t swam in ages, and didn’t like the idea of being led around by a blind woman in an aquatic environment.

With her forked ash staff in hand, she stepped into the pool and quickly submerged. Her tattered robes spread out like ink dropped into water. An ominous sight, Fenris took a deep breath before joining her.

Gemina guided him through a small tunnel in the pool which lead to a small pocket where they grabbed air and another tunnel where they surfaced inside a cave in the mountain. 

The ceiling of the cavern rose like a cathedral, glittering like the night sky with thousands of glow worms. Looking down into the deep of the water below, he could see the blue glow of raw Lyrium veins in the bottomless depths. 

They climbed out of the water, and Gemina tapped the bottom of her staff on the slippery ground and a cool blue glow emitted from between the fork at the top. With better illumination he could see a small domestic living area with skins and furs covering a section of the granite floor, a small cooking area to the side and a small glowing pool across a spit of rock with whorls of steam coming off the surface. 

“What is this place?” Fenris asked he removed the beaded tether from his wrist, approaching the hot spring with curiosity.

Placing the staff into a hollowed out stalagmite providing light for the space, “it’s my... home? I stumbled upon it during my travels and realized it was a perfect place to be safe from everything out there. It’s also a perfect place to channel energy for stronger magic.”

“This is...incredible. Brought many of your patients here?” Fenris kneeled by the spring peering down into the glowing waters. More veins of Lyrium could be seen in the bottom. A grin spread across his face knowing the riches of the world were right here, not weeks below in the Deep Roads, a fortune could be made and no one would ever know. 

“No. You’re the only one. I hope I judged your nature correctly. It’s time to finish your heeling, I’m sorry but I have to ask you to remove your clothes, the last step will require you to go into the spring, but it ruins fabric and leathers, and since neither one of us has bounties of possessions, you probably want to maintain what you have.” 

Without reservation, she began removing her plentiful bracelets and necklaces, unfastened her caplet and slid off her wet dress. Fenris’s eyes widened and turned around. A fluttering feeling took residence in his upper abdomen. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, I can’t see see you. You’re the only one with eyes here.” She tried to reassure him, but his lifetime of conditioning made him feel reticent. He then remembered how tended him for a month while he was unconscious and shrugged and removed his leather breaches. 

“I was trying to be polite...” Unsure of what to say, he tried to avert his eyes, but sighed giving up. Then the pangs of sorrow filled his chest. He watched her approach the spring and across her back were scars upon scars, long healed lacerations deep and numerous. Then a magister’s brand on her shoulder. This was the result of cruelty he understood. He followed her into the spring.

The steaming water felt like the best bath in the finest establishment, but better. Almost effervescent, his skin tingled and his Lyrium tattoos gave him no pain. 

“Nice isn’t it?” She asked treading water in a deeper part of the pool. He remained standing in the shallow running. 

His cheeks hurt from grinning “for a blind witch, you have impeccable taste in housing.” All of his troubles melted away in the soothing waters of the spring. 

An idea dawned on him and he splashed some water at the mage. 

“The elf likes to play?” She giggled and they both erupted into belly aching laughter, splashing at each other for a few minutes. Until completed my soaked. When their giggles subsided Gemina cleared her throat and waved him over to her.

“Careful, elf, someone might see you smiling and having fun and ruin your reputation. Now, please, lay back and float so I may do the finishing touches on your restoration.”

Doing as she asked, feeling strangely buoyant in the deep of the spring. “I will refute your claims, witch. No one will believe a blind woman.”

She made a little sound and grinned. She placed her hand on the center of his chest and he closed his eyes. 

His Lyrium tattoos felt like they were freezing and burning at the same time. Suddenly, his whole life happened at once in a flash, and in a sluggish eternity. His mother, his sister, Danarius, the sword powered Iron Maiden, Seheron. Meeting Hawke, the Vicount’s head rolling across the floor and the duel between Hawke and the Arishock, holding his breath. The Warden prison and slaying Corypheus. 

The chantry exploded and jumped to Hawke telling him farewell. The world had changed and so did they. He left in anger and regret before she woke the next day. Better to be the one leaving than who is left behind. He had a score to settle. The anger and frustration. 

Then something new, he remembered the bloodmage who triggered the horse to trample him just two months before. He now saw what the blue flash was, it was Gemina. Using some sort of time magic she swooped in and carried him away. She ran through the mage, splitting him into two and the remaining combatants fled. The slaves then built the sled and she sent them away. 

The visions changed. Now he was small, and in a girl’s body, and from the shadows he watched a magister beat and abuse a woman, he felt the girl’s fear as the woman became a monstrous abomination. 

Fenris reached out and grabbed Gemina’s arm as the visions continued, now a teen, the wallowing of juvenile sadness, a poor dead mouse in her hands and a few tear drops later, the mouse bounced back to life. She knew what she had become. The spirits whispered at her and she sent them away. Then the inside a magister’s study, the book. He recognized it, not tattered and fresh. Reading each page with joy, but the same magister returned and fury in his long face. Then a fire spell. He screamed in pain and darkness enveloped everything. 

Another memory, the same magister talking about seeing and becoming more, then the pain as he could feel the scar tissue burned away and inserting two orbs into the eye sockets. Some magical incantations later the new eyelids blinked and there was light again. But now it was a black world with only the faintest blue dust covering everything, giving volume and shape. Looking around the room he could see magical objects with the most vibrancy. Lyrium. 

Fenris sat up in the pool coughing. He reached out and embraced Gemina, holding her close, pressing her against him as he caught his breath.

“You weren’t supposed to see that, I’m sorry. It was an accident, but once we connected, I couldn’t stop it, not until the spell was done.” She pushed him away and climbed out of the water and crawled to the furs curling into a ball.

The spell was unlike any magic he experienced before. He felt strong, stronger than he had ever felt before. The energy courses through him like he could annihilate the entire magisterium in a single thrust of his sword or a grab of his hand. 

He climbed out of the pool and sat at her back and untied the knot of the sash she wore around her eyes. 

“Please don’t,” she pleaded, but he had to know. He felt what she experienced. Having never seen anyone who had been changed, the way he had, he ignored her protest.

“You can see lyrium, can’t you? Please. I felt it, please let me see you, as you are.” He removed the sash and crawled around to her front and removed the fabric and set it down beside them. Placing a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head up. 

Surrounded by scarred and red eyelids were two eyes made of veil quartz with runes etched where pupils would be. He studied her face and then pulled her small form into his lap and embraced her. The contact felt sharp against his tattoos, but it didn’t matter. He stroked her back and kissed the side of her head.

“Festis bei umo canavarum, Fenris! Yes, there’s lyrium in everything, small amounts enough to allow me sight.” She pulled back so they were now face to face, their foreheads touching. “But you, you are a bonfire in a world of night.”

In a moment of complete clarity, he wrapped his arms around her waist and brought her back against him and his lips met hers. Again and again. Never before had he felt such hunger for another person. Each time their lips met, it fired a need for another. She returned every kiss of his with one of her own. They tumbled around on the furs, clumsy and wanton, as if they were going to run out of time to explore and discover.

Hours later Fenris laid on his back, Gemina slept with her head upon his chest and her leg draped between his like a flimsy rag doll. Their skin was sticky with sweat and he recalled it had been years since his last liaison with Marian. He missed the quiet after. The closeness. He felt like he was home in this quiet protected cave. He didn’t need to explain himself to Gemina, she understood him in a way he didn’t think was possible. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tevene: 
> 
> Festis bei umo canavarum: "You will be the death of me."
> 
> Venhedis: A swear word.


	5. Spectre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris sees a future he can believe in for the first time while Gemina’s past comes back to haunt her.
> 
> See Tevene translation notes on the bottom, the context should provide enough meaning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW-WARNING
> 
> This chapter contains a lot of adult themes including graphic violence. Proceed at your own risk.

Two months rushed by, Fenris found himself at peace in the hidden cave with his blind mage, Gemina. They spent their days laughing, while Fenris trained refining his swordsmanship and spent their nights intimately entwined. Together, they found a home in each other’s presence, a comfort equally quiet and raucous. 

He tilted his head to the side watching his paramour dress herself. Already dressed in his leathers, as they prepared to leave their refuge for the monthly resupply. Pulling the threadbare garment over her body, he noticed the fraying hem. He ruminated on how she was the most beautiful woman in Thedas, bringing elegance to literal rags. In that moment, he wanted more for her and himself, for them both. It was time to ask the question which had been on his mind for a week.

“Mina, I was thinking.”

“Uhoh,” she interrupted with a giggle. He shook his head, smiling.

“We should see if the merchants have some nicer dresses we could purchase for you,” he said while fastening his tunic shut. His outer armor and weapons were kept in a hollowed boulder by the spring neighboring the waterfall to keep it from excessive water damage.

“Am I too poor to be seen with the great Blue Wraith?” She turned back to him, smiling as she tied the sash around her head. He was disappointed to see her cover her eyes, but understood the sight was unsettling for most. He liked her as she was. 

“No, that’s not it. I noticed the utter disrepair of your robes, and thought you might enjoy some new clothes.” This conversation was already not going as planned. She hadn’t had her freedom long enough to want much for herself, it was evident. He remembered when just being free was enough. 

“I suppose so. Though it seems the last few weeks my robes just end up in a pile on the floor.” She took her staff in hand and approached him offering her freehand to help him to his feet. He took her hand and pulled her down onto the bed of furs instead and rolled on top of her.

“Fair enough,” his face grew hot. “However, nicer clothes look better in a pile on the floor than the ratty robes you currently own,” he whispered in her ear before he rolled away and jumped to his feet and pulled her up, clearing his throat. 

The flutter in his stomach made his mind immediately think of their morning activities. He took a breath to regain himself so he could push the conversation. 

“I was also thinking we could leave here, and have a life somewhere else. Last week when we were liberating that caravan, I heard news how my good friend is now the Viscount of Kirkwall. It happens I have an estate there should we want to claim it.”

“Kaffas, Kirkwall? Even I know Kirkwall is a disaster, besides isn’t it where your former lover resides? I don’t want trouble. I’m an invalid in everyone’s eyes, remember?” She paused as she approached the pond’s edge, preparing to leave. “I’m afraid of cities... they are too loud, busy and dangerous, it’s difficult for me to maintain a clear understanding of my surroundings.”

“I’m also friends with the Guard Captain, and I know the prince of Starkhaven. Gemina... Marian left me when she went to aid the Inquisition and the Wardens. We decided we would talk if we crossed paths again, and I left her before the situation could be amicable. But it’s not important. I’m here with you. We could stop running and build a life.” He paused, and wrapped his arms around her, the top of her head fit perfectly under his chin. “I want to build a life with you.”

Here it goes, there was more he needed to say. He closed his eyes for a boost of bravery. “Mina, I love you.”

“Maker, why? Because I carried you and cared for you for months? Because I’m free with my affections? I’m a mage, you hate mages, and a former slave. I have nothing. I’m just a ghost who roams the forests trying to help those who need it,” she replied in her usual dry manner. Fenris knew she was deflecting.

“This is surprising, yes. I didn’t expect to feel this way. I want to spend my life with you, wake up to you, fall asleep at your side and grow old with you. I’ve never wanted this before. Life is easy with you in it. For the first time, I have a home, and it’s by your side.”

A silence elapsed. Fenris began feeling uncomfortable, he was asking too much too soon. This was completely unlike him. He knew Hawke for years before they even spent the night together. He wondered if this was the result of getting older. But he wanted that future. He wanted to take the estate in Hightown, he wanted to give Gemina a life of stability and comfort she couldn’t imagine. Maybe children? Little ones with her smile and sense of humor. He knew was moving too fast, but he didn’t want this dream to slip away. He remembered the first years of his freedom. The fragility and newness.

“Fenris... if it’s what you want, then it’s what I want.” She stood up on her tip toes and with her free hand guided his face to hers for a long deep kiss. “I love you. I dare say saving you was the best decision of my life.”

The forest was balmy with beams of sunlight penetrating the canopy. After drying off from their swim to the outside world, they reclaimed their belongings hidden in the hollow boulder and made their way through the forest. 

They came upon a merchant and procured food stuffs they couldn’t hunt or gather and Fenris insisted on purchasing Gemina a new dress. It was a rich indigo with white and green accents. It contrasted with her warm skin and onyx hair. He thought she looked like royalty. The dress was a little big, but once they got to Kirkwall he knew they could get it tailored. 

Later in the day they found a safe camp site and celebrated their decision to return to Kirkwall in each other’s arms and consuming a bottle of wine. They laughed and cuddled and he read to her from her book. That night he dreamed of children playing, a warm home, the fuzzy happy drunk of good wine. 

The next day they began to make way to Kirkwall. It was concluded they would go to Starkhaven first and pay a visit to the Prince. Fenris was certain Sebastian would help supply them and send word to Varric and Aveline of his return. He was looking forward to the sermon he was going to inevitably receive. 

Around midday as they walked Gemina grabbed Fenris’s hand and and froze. It was like watching a deer notice the presence of a hunter. Something was wrong. He saw the muscles in her jaw clench down, she never exhibited fear like this before. 

“What is it?” He asked, having learned to trust her sense of awareness which surpassed his eyes and ears.

She pulled him down just in time for an arrow to zoom past his head. 

“Luvicitius Carissus. My master’s son. He’s here.” Gemina trembled as she whispered.

Fenris heard the terror in her voice. He unsheathed his sword from his back. It was time to put an end to this magister once and for all. 

“Don’t bother fighting we have you surrounded!” The Tevene accented voice called out in the distance. 

Fenris spun around, archers and swordsmen surrounded them taking a single step forward. “Stay where you are if you want to live!”

“The Little Wolf who got away, I presume?” The magister revealed himself in a puff of red smoke, a lanky man of sharp features and ostentatious robes. “I can see why Danarius was so taken with you.”

“Please let us pass, Luvicitius.” Gemina readied her forked staff as she rose to her feet. “You have access to the finest slaves in the world, I’m just a cripple. You’ve had your fun, you’ve won the day, let us leave.”

Luvicitius began to laugh, Fenris could feel a blooming anger in his chest as his tattoos began tingle and itch. This Magister would not escape today. No one who made Mina this afraid would live to see sunset.

The magister paced studying them. Fenris felt like prey and it only fueled his growing fury.

“She is magnificent, isn’t she, Little Wolf? My father and I bother very much savored her company. For years, and years. She alone was reason for me to visit. There’s no lover like a women who can’t see your plans. And to think she was an incaensor all this time? Such restraint. She would have made a good apprentice, pity.”

“Shut up- mage!” Fenris roared. Gemina grabbed his wrist.

“Amatus, we’re out numbered. This isn’t wise, we can still escape,” Gemina cautioned in a low whisper. 

“There is no escape from magisters like him.” Fenris spit his words. He knew men like Luvicitius would haunt them to Kirkwall like Danarius before him.

“To claim the two infamous escapees in one day, I will be heralded as the greatest Magister of all time. How I look forward to her sweet touch again, and the thrill of making the Little Wolf watch.” Luvicitius whistled and a horse pulled a locked windowless carriage commonly used for transporting slaves. 

Chaos ensued. Fenris deflected an arrow with his blade, his tattoos illuminated as he became the Blue Wraith again. His skin seared with pain, fueling his enraged state. 

His mind focused on a singular thought, he needed to spill the blood and end the life of all who threatened them. It wasn’t only about him anymore, it was for the future. It was for her. For them.

From the corner of his eye he could see Gemina holding a wave of attackers back with a magically wielded fallen tree. She manifested shields to block and threw rocks her powers. He recalled she said she didn’t know any offensive magic. In this moment he missed having more companions by his side. Even the Abomination would have been useful. 

Fenris cut through a row of archers. Their bodies crumpled to the ground like discarded sacks of gain. He plunged his sword into the last of the archers. 

Spinning on his heels, he saw Luvicitius approaching Gemina. She conjured a shield from the Fade and blocked a barrage of magical attacks he flung at her. 

“Fight a worthy foe, Luvicitius!” Fenris’s voice cut through the sounds of battle, hoping to change the Magister’s focus.

The taunt worked, Luvicitius turned his attentions to Fenris. The Magister raised his hand and Gemina glided through space and time to Fenris’s side. 

Something strange happened. Fenris felt the world slow down around him. His mind moved at normal speed, but his body was stuck. His eyes widened as he saw the beginning of a fireball forming in Luvicitius’s hands. 

Gemina kissed Fenris, she was the only one who able to move in the middle of the pause in time. Her dress undulated around her like waves in a storm. Her rune eyes glowed beneath the sash of fabric which covered them.

“Thank you for loving me. You have shown me such kindness I didn’t know was possible. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you die. I will always be with you. Vitae benefaria, Amatus.” She said, or he thought she said. Maybe it was a whisper, or in his mind. The moment lasted an eternity and equally a fraction of a second.

Fenris tried to scream, but the temporal field wouldn’t release. His tried to tell her no, but was immobilized. His heart felt like it was about to pound out of his chest. 

Then came the flash from the fire spell, and Fenris was knocked back toward the carriage. He leapt to his feet, a fury of azure light. 

“Mina!” He screamed. “Gemina!”

Only the Magister’s cackle returned his call. 

Fenris charged forward pinning Luvicitius to a rock with his blade in his shoulder. 

“Little Wolf has lost his pet!” He coughed blood. “If I shall be deprived mine, then no one shall have win.” Luvicitius spit blood into Fenris’s face.

Fenris roared as he plunged his fist into the Magister’s chest and ripped his heart out, and cleansing his fist close in a single movement. A rain of carnage fell on them both. 

“Gemina?” Fenris yelled. His eyes scanned the carnage of the forest path. Bodies everywhere, but no sign of her. She who carried him, and kept him safe. 

Then he spotted the scorch mark where he stood before the blast knocked him back. 

“No...” His chest went tight and the he could feel pressure push against the inside of his skull. He dove to the burned spot and in the center of a pile of ashes were two small orbs with runes etched into them. 

He fell to his knees and took the spheres into his hand as he howled. Fenris didn’t remember a time when he cried before this, but the shake of sobs doubled him over holding the orbs in his fist. 

It was all which was left. No more dreams of Kirkwall, reading to her by the fire. No more weekly card games with Varric and Donnic again. They would not grow old and grey together, no jokes of his creaking bones. He just wanted to be happy for a little while. It was a mistake. 

She saved his life, one last time.

Struggling through his agony, he could hear someone calling for help from inside the locked carriage. He placed her eyes in a small hidden pocket beside his heart beneath his chest plate. He removed Hawke’s red sash and tucked it into his boot. Souvenirs of lives once lived, and lost.

There would be time to mourn, but first, she would have wanted him to help whoever was locked inside the carriage.

With a swing of his blade, he chopped off the lock and swung the door open. He didn’t notice he was still glowing. The fight still pulsed through his veins.

“Wait wait! Don’t kill me! I’m a friend of Varric’s and I know Hawke!” The robed man said inside the carriage. He stumbled out, his hands bound. 

Fenris scowled as his light dissipated. The man looked exceptionally annoying, with a small black mustache and Magister robes.

“Kaffas! Why I should spare you, you’re just another Magister! If I have to go to Minrathous and if I have to kill every last Magister myself, I will.” Fenris clenched his blood soaked fist.

“My name is Dorian Pavus! Yes, I’m a Magister, but I’m no friend of those like Luvicitius. I’m not shackled in the back of a slave carriage for my health, you know.” The Magister looked down at the floor before his gaze rose again to meet Fenris’s. “Let me go and I guarantee your thirst for vengeance will be quenched.” The mage added.

Fenris rolled his eyes. He mulled the decision over in his mind and with his sword he cut the enchanted cuffs around the mage’s wrists and sheathed his sword on his back. He turned and walked away, taking Gemina’s bag of belongings which was strewn by the base of a nearby tree and slung them across him. 

Dorian stretched for a moment and approached the burned mark on ground. Then looked back to Fenris, who kept his hand balled into a fist ready to strike. Seeing the Magister’s pained expression gave him pause and he relaxed his hand. He regretted his sense of humanity, it was clear Gemina’s influence would stay with him. He wanted to be purely bitter and wrath. 

A breeze blew through the trees and it tickled his ears, and for a moment it felt like her lips. A tear fell from Fenris’s eye onto the forest floor. 

“I heard the whole thing... for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” 

“Apologies don’t bring back the dead.” Fenris snapped as he glared. He looked around the forest and sighed. He didn’t know what to do with himself, but an idea dawned on him how to keep her with him for all time. 

He cleared his throat and with a reticent voice Fenris asked, “Do you know anyone who does enchantments?... I am now in possession of runes I would like to use for imbuing my blade.”

Dorian nodded. “I know a place we can prepare. Funny you should mention runes, I recently employed a strange little dwarf who seems to have a knack for enchantments.”

A stone faced expression was all Fenris gave in response to Dorian’s offer. 

“I happen to have the names and locations of most of the Magisterium, and where to find a almost bottomless wine cellar. Judging from your expression you appear to need the latter desperately.” The mage grinned. There was an heir of exuberant confidence in the man which reminded him of someone more cultured and refined than Marian ever was, but a sincere sense of fun they shared. Fenris had kept worse company in the past. 

Fenris rolled his eyes and asked the Maker why he was constantly being stuck in the company of magic. The Maker always enjoyed a cruel joke.

“How did you know I was a friend of Varric’s?” Fenris asked as they began walking down the shaded path toward Minrathous. 

“Have you seen yourself? There’s only one glowing elf I have ever heard stories about, not to mention Varric is never lean about descriptions in his stories,” Dorian explained. Fenris affirmed with a grunt. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation, but what the mage said rang true.

The two walked in silence for many hours. Fenris didn’t know what the future would bring, but he would face it, as he faced everything in his life, with a squared chest and merciless tenacity.

He hoped she could haunt him for some time, she would forgo the Maker’s side and antagonize him instead. Despite his pleas to the void, he knew he could always feel her on the wind, in the rustle of leaves and between the pages of her favorite book. 

It would be some time before Fenris would be willing to put this sorrow behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tavene:
> 
> Amatus: A term of endearment
> 
> Incaensor: means a dangerous substance, such as raw lyrium or natron salts. It is often used as derogatory slang for a magic-using slave—something dangerous but useful if controlled
> 
> Vitae benefaria: A respectful goodbye
> 
> Thank you for reading this little series. It went places I didn’t expect, so thanks for coming on this journey with me. Maybe in the future I will write some Fenris and Dorian adventures. Who knows!


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Fenris sitting around the campfire on the road to Tevinter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the end of the last chapter I felt like it needed a little hopeful resolution to soften the blow. Once again, thank you for reading and your support.

The campfire flickered and cracked as it consumed the log. A bite in the wind told Dorian autumn was coming, and even in Tevinter it meant there was a slight chill on the air. It wasn’t actually cold, he remembered the frigid Emprise and icy winds in the Wastes at night. Who’s idea was it anyway that deserts would be cold in the evening?

It was how that damned Qunari got him in bed in the first place, the pretense of warming up on a frosty night. Years later, he caught serious feelings and living apart was the worst. His giant beast of a man was perpetually a world away and now he was stuck with the least talkative traveling companion. Varric normally was considered a unreliable narrator, but Fenris was precisely as the dwarf described.

“I don’t suppose you want to talk about it?” Dorian asked, knowing he was going to regret posing the question.

“No. I don’t want to talk about it.” Fenris’s deadpan voice was difficult to determine if there was an attempt at humor or he was just grumpy. Learning to discern the different shades of grump was going to be a monumental task.

Dorian saw why the ladies mooned over him in stories. He was handsome in the worst way. He didn’t even try, lucky bastard. His serious face, always in thought compelled him to know what was on his mind. He cautioned himself, it wasn’t a good time to be thinking of hitting on anyone.

“Can we talk about something? Anything? I’m tired, bored, and lonely,” Dorian lamented, running his hand through his hair, greasy from their time on the road. Shaking his wine skin he sighed at the absence of sloshing sounds. “And, I’m empty.”

The elf also sighed and produced a bottle from the sack he carried. He held onto that ragged thing like a child’s stuffed toy when he slept. Dorian assumed it belonged to the one’s who’s ashes he also kept in a small pouch tied to his belt. A grim reminder of the circumstances which culminated in their meeting.

“This was for a journey I’m unlikely to make. We might as well consume it, since you did say where we were going has plenty of wine.” Fenris uncorked the bottle and took a swig before handing it over.

Dorian gulped down the mediocre contents before handing the bottle back. “I can promise you this, if there’s not a full cellar of wine a lot of people are going to lose their employment.”

“Fasta Vass,” Fenris said after taking another drink.

“Fasta Vass.” Dorian agreed.

They finished the wine and Dorian enjoyed the light buzz as the fuzziness went to his head. The chill disappeared and the heat tickled his nose.

“So, we have a few mutual friends, you know.” 

“As you mentioned.” The elf produced a small flask and handed it to Dorian.

“This probably isn’t the time, but you should know Varric put on a little bit of weight as of the last time I saw him at the Exalted Council.”

“You don’t say? It’s more believable than him growing a beard.” Fenris smirked. It was the first time in days Dorian saw anything more than a scowl on the elf’s face.

“The whole Inquisition was really just a bad party. It seemed you missed a good and terrible time.”

“I wasn’t permitted to come. So I went on my own way. Is the Templar Cullen Rutherford still as dense as I recall? He managed to not see Hawke’s identity as a mage most of her time in the city.”

“He’s not as unaware, and even found himself a mage. Quit the Lyrium even. Though, I swear he was constantly giving me the eyes.”

“The eyes?”

“The ‘Seduce me now you naughty Tevinter Mage’ eyes. Hawke corroborated the look, but we never got a straight answer.”

Dorian and Fenris shared a laugh.

“If you had told me five years ago Cullen would be working alongside Varric I wouldn’t believe you. Strange times we’ve seen.”

“He even played Wicked Grace with us, lost all his clothes to the Ambassador, a truly gorgeous Antivan woman. The shade of his embarrassed face I had only seen on a sunburned Fereldan.”

“Ser Cullen Rutherford lost his clothes in a card game?” Fenris frowned. “This is precisely what I didn’t want to miss.”

A moment of silence elapsed as they both watched the fire. Dorian already felt less lonely.

“So, let’s hear it. How is Mar- Hawke.” Fenris picked up a thin twig and began drawing in the soft dirt with the tip.

“Hawke? She’s hilarious as ever, and a complete and utter mess. After Stroud stayed in the Fade, her brother ran off to lead the remaining Wardens. She crawled into a bottle and left the Inquisition. I’m not sure where she ended up, but the Inquisitor was engaged to Carver, messy business that. He broke it off in the name of being devoted to the order. The Inquisitor took it horribly. I mean, I’ve never seen a person so upset. The revelations we experienced inside the Fade shook her very foundations of faith.” Dorian divulged.

“This is why I never bothered to have faith. You can’t loose something you don’t have.” Fenris cracked a twig he was playing with and tossed it into the fire.

“Ha! Excellent point. Not all of us come with that level of common sense.” He leered over to see what Fenris had drawn in the earth, but the elf obscured it by smoothing it over with his foot.

“It’s... disappointing to hear Hawke is struggling again. She went through a period after her mother died. I hope she finds her way.” Fenris threw another twig into the fire.

“I don’t know what you recently went through, but I’m sure you’ll find some piece after we send some magisters to the void.” Dorian changed the subject. It was obvious the subject of Hawke wasn’t a pleasant one.

The elf smiled at Dorian, “That thought does put a smile on my face. Nothing will make up for what I’ve lost, but there’s nothing quite as satisfying as taking down the worst of the world.”

Dorian choked on his tongue and coughed. “Honestly, me too. Oh, by the way, if we get ambushed by a giant one-eyed Qunari in hideous pants, he’s fine, he’s with me.”

“A Tevinter mage with a Qunari? Now I really have heard it all.” The elf raised his eyebrows.

“Trust me, years later I’m still as surprised as you.” Dorian left the conversation there and leaned back to enjoy watching the flames dance. The grumpy elf was beginning to grow on him and he could see their future working together as a pleasant and beneficial enterprise. 


End file.
